The Tenth Hold
by I Kar Na Vor I
Summary: It has been five years since Alduin's fall. Five years since the Stormcloak victory. Five years since the order disbanded. Now their leader rallies his companions for one last task that will change the face of Skyrim. The addition of a hold.
1. Chapter 1

On the road at the edge of a frozen cliff, a man walks along the stone path. He is unable to see five feet in front of him due to the thick blizzard. The man wore a black, hooded cloak that was turning white from the falling snow. As he walked his footprints were covered seconds after he lifted his feet.

He looked up and shouted, "Lok Vah Koor!" It was loud and in a tongue that only those who have devoted their lives to its words could understand. A role of thunder cracked and the clouds parted, showing the bright sun in the sky. With no blizzard to cloud his sight, he saw the end of his journey, the mages college of Winterhold.

He entered the rebuilt city and made his way to the bridge, the reconstruction officially began five years ago, and to the man, it was quite impressive. As he was passing what was once the jarl's longhouse, then his eyes fell upon the mead hall. The city had a radius of half a mile and in the center, the college stood, a large stone tower, and on the roof were three circular buildings that connected to the surrounding wall. The stone bridge that lead up to it touched the edge of the roof and met with a metal gate. Two of the towers matched each other and were on the opposite sides, the last one was the largest with a wide, round window at the top. It was at least twice the size of the others. The man had been to the college before and noticed a small change to the larger tower. Another wing was added onto it.

When he arrived at the bridge, he walked up the first steps, towards the first, small joint of the bridge. A robed woman appeared in front of him and spoke, "Stop where you are, unless you want me to melt your skin off?" The man recognized the robes she wore. It was of the college, robes of an expert level of destruction. She was obviously a teacher.

The man looked up, he was wearing a mask that was as pale as bone. It had two tusks coming down from the cheek and two round eyes with a narrow slit so the man could see. The name of the mask was Krosis. "Why such hostility towards a friend?" his voice was muffled by the mask, "And a friend of the arch mage at that." The man sounded sincere with a sarcastic tone.

"What is your name, traveler." The woman was committed to her guard. Hand still raised, she prepared to cast a spell of destruction.

The man paused for a moment. "Surely you arch mage has told you of me? No?" He sighed, removed his mask and spoke again, "My name is Troy." He was a nord, long blond hair that was starting to grey, a beard and blue eyes. A few scars showed on his cheek along with spots of dirt.

The woman's eyes widened, "Forgive me," she pulled of her hood and showed that she was a high elf, "come right this way." She straightened up and waved her arm in the direction of the bridge.

As they began to walk, Troy spoke again. "You still didn't answer my question."

"And what question is that?"

"Why are you so hostile toward a guest?"

The high elf paused again and looked at him, "A guest belongs in an inn, and the rest of Winterhold still blames us for the great collapse. We still get angry mobs and with the town growing in population, the nords have been getting more support. So we have to be a bit more hostile towards them." She turned away and held her hand up, it started to glow and then a bright light burst from her palm and shot toward a small fountain on the bridge.

Troy continued the conversation, "But you helped rebuild the town, didn't you?"

"Of course we did, but the nords of Skyrim are a stubborn people, they remember every fault, no matter how many times the debt is repaid. Besides, we like being outcasts, if we are left alone, we have much more time for our study, the attacks only happen about once a month and our arch mage uses a master spell of illusion to calm the mobs. It wears off a couple days later but it takes them longer to organize another attack."

"I know what you mean. It took me a while to get Ulfric to fix the grey quarter for the dark elves back in Windhelm."

"I think that one of our students would appreciate that, she had been complaining about it until word of its resolve reached us." She cast the spell on another pool and turned back for a response.

"How do you think your students will react seeing a nord walk through the front gate with no explanation?"

"I think they will be to concentrated on their research to notice." They had arrived at the front gate that was made of tall metal poles and an image of an eye with columns of energy shooting out from it, through the bars Troy could see a statue of the first arch mage of the college. The high elf cast a spell on another pool right outside the gate and the metal doors swung open. The woman turned to him again, "The arch mage will be in his quarters." She turned around and cast a spell on the pool again and the gate creaked shut. As he walked across the courtyard a kajiit made a quick glance his way and returned to casting enchantments on a pile of scrolls. The statue in the center of the courtyard had a pool in the front, much like the ones on the bridge, but this one was about three times as large as the others and had a large column of blue light emitting from the glowing liquid. He passed it and noticed the garden to the left and right of him, the path leading to the large building was stone and despite the cold weather it was warmer than the air. Most likely a series of spells to keep it that way. He opened the large iron door and stepped inside.

The room inside the large building was circular, except for the entrance with two columns of spiraling staircases on both sides. In front of Troy was another door with a sign on the side that read "Keep door closed when teaching, experimenting, testing, practicing, and harnessing any type of magic." On the other side he could hear a series of explosions and the crack under the door kept flashing as each explosion occurred. He turned to his right and walked up the staircase, one rotation he passed a wooden door that read "The Arcanaeum" with a small note etched under the title, "Please Remember to Return Books in the Condition They Were Taken." Continuing up the stairs he read another door, "Arch Mages Quarters." He knocked twice and heard a familiar voice.

"Come in!" The voice was young but came from the throat of an old man, a bretton. When Troy entered the man was sitting down at a table, eating a sweet role and reading a book. Without looking up he swallowed and a wide grin appeared on his wrinkled face. "Troy! How have you been?"


	2. Chapter 2

"So, what is all of this about?" Selther stood up and motioned Troy to sit opposite to him. His face was wrinkled and his long beard was turning white from age. "By the way, you might want to hide that shout of yours when you're on the road. Some people, namely the imperials left in Skyrim, don't exactly appreciate which side you took. Your alliance with Ulfric had won him the war, and left the emperor of Tamriel a bit more venerable to the assassination." As he continued to speak, books were flying off of shelves and opening. When the books flipped through their pages the ink seemed to glow a bright gold, when they reached the end of the cover they slammed shut and returned to their shelves. The alchemy lab in the room was working itself. Ingredients were moving from shelves and mixing in mid-air. "Which, word has reached me, was committed by our friend in Dawnstar. Which reminds me, my last trip to Dawnstar has resulted in the uncovering of the nightmare situation there, I do regret killing that priest of Mara but that daedric staff was too great to let him destroy, he must have realized that it should be 'properly' studied."

"Selther." Troy spoke with impatience for Selther has been known for his rambling.

"Speaking of magics that have yet to be research, I must press you again to allow me to examine that thu'um of yours. Nordic traditions usually keep their form of magic away from us mages but since you're the dragonborn and the 'way of the voice' does not refer to you, I was wondering if you could simply do me a favor."

"Selther!" Troy had been listening to this old mage babble on and on enough. This visit was not one of pleasure but of business. "Can I say what I came here to say?"

"Of course, of course. Go ahead, but before you do can I get you a drink? Wine, mead, Alto wine, nord mead, Blackbrier, Huneybrew?" as he spoke, he lifted his hand and a yellow glow emitted from it, bottles and goblets lifted from a shelf and flew toward them.

"Nord mead, thank you." Selther nodded in response and motioned three of his fingers back to the shelf and the rest of the drinks followed, alto wine and the nord mead stayed with a pair of goblets. His hand shot a line of ice toward the mead. He tilted his hand and the caps of the two bottles opened and the liquids poured into the two silver cups. "I still don't know why you use such a lazy way to do the simplest of tasks."

"I still don't know why you continue to wear that cloak of yours, the harsh cold remains outside." He motioned toward his cloak and with the snap of his fingers, he stopped the experiments in the room and his rambling became a more serious tone. "Why have you come?"

"Do you remember Blackreach?" He muttered, he looked down at Selther's boots and noticed that they had an ominous glow to them. This mage seemed to have enchanted any article of clothing he could get his hands on.

"Yes, why do you bring it up?"

"Have you considered making another hold?" A faint smile crossed Troy's face.

The mages eyes widened, "You can't be serious. What of the falmer and the mechanical guardians that roam the halls of the dwemer?"

"Extermination."

Selther raised his eyebrows in amazement. "I can understand the guardians but the falmer are a society, granted that it is 'under developed' but a society none the less."

"And like a society, they must pay for their actions toward those on the surface." He raised his gaze to the mage and saw a face full of disbelief.

Selther paused for a few seconds and took a drink. "All societies have their own laws. They have not come to the surface and caused harm, only to those who have intruded. Besides, are you not worried about the people to live in this hold, they could adapt like the falmer and become repulsive."

With a serious look the nord responded, "You know that if the falmer could find their way out of the dwarven ruins they would wage war on us at any moment. Anyways, the only thing that I'm worried about is the reason for the disappearance of the dwemer. And if we repair some of the lights down their then we won't need to worry about the adaptations."

The bretton's eyes shifted and glanced over to a glass case that held an old dagger and a misshapen soul gem. "I do believe I know what happened to the dwemer, and it won't be a problem."

"Good, so now I have no problem with turning it into a hold."

"You make a good argument, now why are you bringing up this awkward subject." He paused for a moment to take another drink then began again, "Why do you talk about it to me?"

"I am trying to bring together our little group," he took a drink of his mead and began again, "simply to help me with this task."

"I don't feel that the region could benefit me in any way other than improve the economy of Skyrim. And I'm sure you don't need any help taking over that area."

"Surely you have not forgotten the crimson ninroot? Seems like something that deserves study." Upon this remark the mage seemed to be torn between two temptations.

"I only have one more problem with this. Do you remember why we parted, why we went our separate ways?"

"Of course, it was to keep peace in each hold. And you're wondering who would protect this hold. I already have a solution to that problem."

"And what solution is that?"

"We gain another member."

"Do you have a candidate?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I do. But the only problem I have is finding a jarl for the new hold."

"We'll have time to think about that when we go there."

"So, you're coming?" Troy questioned before he quickly finished his drink.

"Of course I'm coming, do you think I would let you go there without me?"

"Alright, any more problems?"

"Well our imperial member might not appreciate what that little assassin did." They both glared at each other and knew that he wouldn't be anywhere near that woman without trying to kill her.


	3. Chapter 3

The two old friends then decided to trade tales of their experiences since they parted, Troy told of the Hammer he was given in the rift by Malakath and Selther told of his encounter with the daedric prince of madness and his Wabbajack. They then began to talk about the other members of their group.

"How do you think that wood elf will respond to us wanting to take him away from his wife?" Selther spoke with unease as he recalled that one of the members became married.

"We will not have to worry about him until we enter his hold, that stealthy archer will likely see us before we enter the town of Fallkreath."

"Your right, that hunter has more than likely stalked a deer just to find out where the rest of the herd is."

"Have you gotten word of our assassin friend yet?"

"The dark elf? Other than the numerous contracts she had fulfilled in my hold I haven't seen her." The bretton began to change the subject. "You still haven't told me why you won't take that cloak off."

"Because this particular set of armor would gain too much attention."

"Coming from the man who decided to use an ancient magic with hundreds of witnesses. I know the armor you speak of, there is no reason to hide who you are within my college, even my newer students know your Identity."

Troy began to shift his position, and then he stood and took off his cloak to show a set of dragon plate armor, one made entirely by dragon bones and iron. The tone of the bones matched the mask he was wearing before he stepped on the bridge, the bones were massive and three dragon claws ran across each of his shoulders. "I've been meaning to ask you, where is your mask?"

"The one I found when I obtained the staff of Magnus in the Labyrinth? It's in my safe at the back of the room, you wouldn't believe all of the wards I had strung into the metal just to protect it." With the mention of the mask, memories began to flood into him, the small shrine in Labyrinth and the skeleton with the wooden model of the mask that is kept in the safe.

"I don't see the handle, or the lock, just a large metal box."

"That's the point, unless you have a well understanding of how the mechanism works, you'll have a hard time getting into it."

"What if someone stole it simply to get it away from you? Couldn't they just move the safe?"

"You don't think I anticipated that? Try to lift it." Troy moved over to the box and made note that the ground underneath it was different from the rest of the room. He grabbed it by the two handles on the side and attempted to lift the box, and then he tried to drag it, to his amazement the box didn't seem to budge. In his frustration he took out his daedric war hammer and slammed it into the metal. No dent or scratch was seen on the thick steal. "I told you there would be no way for a brute to open it." Troy simply smiled at him then turned to look at the safe.

He opened his mouth wide and shouted, "Fus Ro Dah!" The safe bent and cracked then caved in on itself. Selther wasn't too happy about his damaged safe. Troy then grabbed the mask and tossed it to the mage with a childish grin. When the mask was in mid air, Selther reached out and grabbed it with his telekinetic abilities and slowly drew it closer to him. The mask was like Troy's, accept the bottom half was fashioned to look like a mouth instead of a pair of tusks, it was silver with a blue light emitting from the center and encircling around the outer metal. "You may need that for our journey."

"You knew that I didn't have enough knowledge of the thu'um to properly protect it from the voice! Yet you still insisted on destroying my safe!" But Troy just ignored his anger and decided to ask more questions about the changes to the college. While he did this, Selther slipped the mask into his arch mage robes.

"I see you've added a new wing to your college. Might I ask what it is for?" Troy had always done reckless things like this then block out the scolding of the ones he angered. The quick forgiveness of Selther has a hint on how close the two were.

"Come, I'll show you myself." The two of them walked over to the spiraling staircase and on the way down the mage began to speak again. "Do you remember the damage caused by the great collapse?"

"Yes, the college was spared save for some chambers and rooms but other than that it looked unharmed from the outside." Troy knew that this was why some of the nords of Skyrim blamed the mages for the destruction of the city of Winterhold.

"Well some of those rooms were filled with books, knowledge, all lost to us after the great collapse. But like almost everything, they can be recovered." Then Selther stopped outside the door to the Arcanaeum and opened it.

The room was possibly the largest section of the entire college, it was longer than Troy had remembered and when it reached the center of the room, the ceiling rose to the top of the tower, and all the way up were shelves, filled with books. At the end of the room was a desk with an old orc sitting behind it, flicking through pages and reading them with intense interest. He then looked up at the two men who stood before him. "Selther, come to check out another hundred or so books? After the last time I made an observation to the subjects and found another group of books that dove deeper into the matters."

"No my friend, I am simply here to show my good friend here our new wing." The arch mage made a gesture toward Troy and looked back at the orc for a response.

"Just don't let him touch anything, we've collected too much lost history for it to be mistreated."

"Of course, of course." Selther chuckled a bit and whispered to troy, "Better behave yourself, damage a single page and this man would cast you to Oblivion to be torn apart by angry dremora lords."

"I'll make note of that, we should be going now. Best to get on the road as soon as possible."

"What hold should we visit first?" Selther asked as they were leaving the room.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dawnstar, After all it is the closest."

"Do you remember the code to getting through that blasted door?"

"Of course I do, how could I forget such a twisted philosophy?" They were making reference to the black door that guarded the dark brotherhood's sanctuary just north of Dawnstar.

"Before we go, I would like to grab a few things, and oh." The mage looked as if he had just remembered something. "This if for you." He was holding a scroll with a seal that seemed to be made of the same metal used in his safe. "Open it only when you need unimaginable power."

"Thank you my friend, is that all?" Selther shook his head and with a wave of his hands a staff melted through the ceiling and slowly dropped toward them, followed by a number of potions and books. The bretton then stuffed them all into a bag under his arch mage robes. Troy noticed one of the books. It was named Nightingale, Fact or Fiction. "I thought I hade more eagle feathers up there, guess I'll just leave without them."

"Why don't you just pluck some from those robes your wearing?" They both chuckled and began to move toward the staircase again. Selther lifted his mask and put it on. After that he raised his hood and nodded to Troy. As they walked to the door an old man came into the room. He was wearing expert robes of alteration and had a white beard.

"Tolfdeir, I'll be leaving now, look after the college while I'm gone. Make sure the new students don't incinerate one another and keep the midden closed off, I don't want anyone down their while I'm away."

"Of course. So, you're taking the staff of Magnus?" Tolfdeir motioned his hand to the staff Selther was holding. "Are you sure it's safe to use on organic matter?"

"No, and that's the purpose. I'm not taking it to study. I'm using it as a weapon. We're going to Blackreach."

"Oh, can I ask why?"

"One reason is to study the crimson ninroot and the other is best left a mystery until my return."

"Before you go I would just like to remind you of the natural soul gem deposits in that area. The college is running low on them and the new students need training on enchantments."

"I'll remember to grab some when we're done there." Selther glanced at Troy and saw that he was becoming impatient. They went down the stairs and into the courtyard and saw a line of students waiting for them.

"Selther, if I could have but a moment of"

"Not now, I am departing."

Another student stepped forward and asked a question. "Selther, I am running low on ingredients and I need to know whether or not nightshade is able to mix with a deathbell."

"It is, but only if you want to make a poison. In that case, throw in an ingredient that shares at least one trait with the deathbell or the nightshade for an extra effect." Now Selther was trying to push his way through the crowd.

"Arch mage, I need to ask you a few questions before you"

"That's enough! Please ask Tolfdeir these questions, but only if they are serious! Otherwise speak with your teachers!" The students backed away and looked at each other, then they separated and moved into the three buildings.

Troy turned to him and asked, "What was all that about?"

Selther sighed and spoke, "The students feel comfortable asking the most senior member of this college, that is why I usually lock myself in my quarters and only open the door when the matter is serious."

"Then how did you know the matter was serious when I came to your door?"

The bretton smiled under his mask, "Your visit does not need to be of a serious matter."

They had made it to the gate going onto the bridge and Selther lifted his hand and a green light shot at the seal at the gate and it opened. On the way out of the city, Selther began another conversation between the two of them. "I bet you want to see the harbinger in Whiterun, it has been a while since you two have been in contact." The bretton liked to tease Troy about the relationship with the other nord in their group.

"I won't lie, I am excited to see her but we have been in contact." The two nords have been writing to each other but Troy had never mentioned turning Blackreach into another hold, he figured that the news would be better if he told her in person.

"How will you convince the thief?" Selther asked as he turned his head to him on the way out of the city. Troy turned in response and through the eye slits in his mask Selther saw a look of mischief, Troy paused for a moment.

"Greed."

Selther looked puzzled, then recalled the many gems and precious metals he saw while he was in dwarven ruins. He found it so amusing he began to laugh at the thought of the thief bringing a whole cart into the elevator to try and carry heavy loads of dwarven metals and jewelry back to the rift.

"He would need a tarp to cover the wagon to stop the endless waves of bandits from trying to steal one plate of metal." Selther said trying to stop himself from laughing in between words. They joked back and forth all the way to Dawnstar.

They walked along the frozen beach to the black door, many times Troy thought he could feel someone watching him as soon as he entered the hold. He quickly reminded himself where he was and dismissed his instincts. This hold is home to assassins. The question isn't whether or not they were being watched. It was who was watching them.

"You feel it too, don't you?" Selther looked at him and behind his mask was a stern glare. "We're not alone." Selther lifted his hand and waves of blue light circled around it, the eye slits of his mask began to glow as he cast the spell to detect life. He looked around them, when he was turned around a little girl walked in front of them. Troy tapped Selther's shoulder. He spun around and looked in the general direction then looked at Troy. "She's too cold to be alive, don't underestimate her."


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone, I know It's been a while since I posted but I recently got a job and its been eating away at my time. Hope this chapter was worth the wait. I didn't put much work into 'the un-child' because while I played the game she showed me nothing more than just another colorful addition to the family of death dealers. So without anymore delays, the next installment of this soon to be long story.

Sincerely

IKarNaVorI

"You're here for Alena, aren't you?" The little girl spoke, Troy and Selther noticed her eyes were black as night and her teeth were fanged. It was obvious she was a vampire, she looked no older than eight, but there was no telling how old she really was. If they hadn't been used to looking for these features in a person the little girl would seem as though she was nothing more than a local child.

"And if we are?" Troy showed no fear, Selther couldn't tell if he was brave or ignorant of her power. He had no doubt that he dealt with vampires before, but they were unpredictable, you would never truly know exactly how powerful they were until it was too late.

"Good answer, can't trust many people these days, you can come in." They were still hesitant, they saw that she was avoiding the sunlight, and the black door was in the shade with her. "Smart thinking, can never be to careful." She smiled and took out a black umbrella, moved over to another shaded spot and put it away again. They moved to the door, it had a large image of a skull with a read handprint on the forehead.

"What is life's greatest illusion?" A whispered, strained voice came from the door. It was the voice of death itself but Troy didn't even hesitate to answer.

"Innocence, brother." He spoke clearly and with confidence to his answer.

"Welcome home." The door creaked open and a gust foul wind came out the icy depths.

Troy stepped in as if he were invited into someone's home. It was almost like he was strolling. Ignoring the clear signs of danger he found himself in a room with a map covered in needles and a bookshelf. He moved to a book and opened it. A shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and was closing in on him. It didn't make a sound, its as if it was walking on air. Without looking up, Troy spoke. "Hello Alena, it's about time you showed up to greet us." The figure slouched it's shoulders and stood straight up.

"You never were easy to sneak up on." Alea said with disappointment. She was wearing shrouded armor and a black hood, a red cloth covered her face up to her eyes, only showing enough skin for someone to make out that she was a dark elf. Pulling down her hood and slipped down the fabric, she sheathed the blade of woe and smiled at them both. "Your both wearing your masks so I assume this has to do with the order?"

"Somewhat. Can we truly enter the sanctuary or must we talk at the front door?" Troy turned around and took off his mask and cloak. Alea walked backward and waved her hand invitingly further down the icy tunnels.

They passed a redguard who was cooking in a makeshift kitchen savoring the smells. Further down the people seemed to get stranger, there was a young boy who was no older than fifteen. Despite all the years, Troy recognized him as Aventus Arentino. He had contacted the dark brotherhood and it seems a few years later he joined them. Even further down they saw a Jester in front of a coffin surrounded by candles who was staring at them and jumping around as if avoiding the urge to kill them.

When they finally reached what looked like the central chamber, they began to discuss the reason for their visit. "Why have you come to my family? Did a member of your order betray you and you're here for a contract? Or is this larger and more complicated than that?" Never any time for small talk. She was all business.

"We're bringing the order back together." Said Selther, trying to hide his sense of discomfort.

"Right, more complicated. It might not turn out too well. A few of us have done some things to the others that can't be forgiven. Namely how I broke the heart of Cassius by killing his precious emperor. And you, Troy, for killing General Tullius. He has every reason to hate the order after something like that happened." She was right, It would take a lot of reasoning to get Cassius to agree to come with them. It has been a while since the civil war and Troy hoped that the imperial would simply put political differences aside and aid them in their goal.

"Your right, he has every right to hate us for that, but this matter is much more serious that which side we support. Or in your case, which side we killed." Troy was sure that she wouldn't resist the chance to change her regular activities for something different.

"Get to the point. Why are you bringing together the order again?" Alena was trying to get down to business but the three of them were prone to small talk, it had been a while since they last spoke but if this visit was of important matters, she would want to get to it. They had plenty of time to catch up on the road.

"We're turning Blackreach into a hold."

"Blackreach? Never herd of it."

Troy decided to cut in, he knew that Selther would just turn his explanation into a lecture. "You've been in Dwarven ruins before, right? Your firs _official_ contract?" He was referring to how she had taken a dark brotherhood contract without being a member.

"Yes, it was some bandit leader that was hold up near Windhelm."

"Imagine a cave that's as large as Eastmarch, right under the mountains just south of us." He paused for a moment to let her imagination take over for a second. "In that cave is hundreds of dwarven ruins. Infested by foul creatures called the falmer."

"I'm in."

"What, no bribing? No reasoning?"

"You said hundreds of dwarven ruins, the one I was in had plenty of loot. Which means that the thief won't be hard to convince."

"That's right, I almost forgot you to had a _thing_ for him before we separated." She blushed slightly and turned away from them. As she started to pack a few things in her bag she hesitated when she reached for a dagger. Troy thought he herd her talk to herself for a moment but dismissed it. She drew her hand away from it and pulled a leaver. A stone wall opened and revealed a room. At the back of the room was a black mask with a red glow to it, the same shape as the one that belonged to Selther. She grabbed it and put it on, then lifted her hood. She pressed a button next to the round, stain glass window that had the skeletal image of Sithis. The window slid into the wall to show another frozen tunnel. She motioned her hand and the three of them walked in.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: Sorry for the time it took to update, my access to this computer is limited and I am hoping that when fall dawns on this year I might have more time to write. Thank you for your comments and support.

As they walked down the tunnel behind the stain glass window, Troy noticed the jester moving to the entrance of the sanctuary. He quickly dismissed it and continued to follow Alena.

The three of them climbed a ladder at the end of the passageway and at the top was a wooden hatch hidden behind some rocks a few yards north of the path from Dawnstar to Morthal. They quickly crawled out and made their way onto the road.

"I like the changes you made to your home." Troy spoke sarcastically, poking fun at how uncomfortably cold it was for her. "I can understand why you didn't put in a fireplace. It'd likely melt the whole den."

"We used to have a warmer sanctuary in Fallkreath but it was burned to the ground when the imperials tried to stop us from killing the emperor." The memory of the brotherhood's mage being pinned to a tree with twenty arrows just outside the sanctuary made Alena shiver. "So, I suppose we're going to have to cover our necks when we talk to Elisa?"

"She shouldn't be that much of a problem, I should be able to reason with her." Selther thought he might be able to convince her to come with them by telling her of the unique blood of the falmer. Her vampirism had caused her to crave variety in her 'meals.' If that wouldn't work he would bribe her with the sample of blood that matched that of the dwemer by using a mixture of blood from the species close relatives. He still kept samples for study when that insane mage tried to open a dwemer puzzle box. "Besides, you should be more worried about the inhabitants of the swamp more than Elisa herself, provided we can find her in the first place." The townspeople of Morthal most likely drove her into exile. Selther could not help but feel sorry for her.

As the road curved and sight of the swamp came into view, the jester appeared from behind a large boulder with a horse that seemed to be made of death itself with eyes as red as blood. "Listener isn't leaving poor Cicero is she? Surely not abandoning the night mother because of 'slow business'?"

Alena turned to him, "No Cicero, I'm just helping out the order I was talking about. I should be back in a couple weeks, a month at most." She used a tone of annoyance toward Cicero.

"Then Cicero will come with you! Cicero serves the night mother and her listener without question. But without the listener, sweet Cicero knows not what the night mother wants. Listener is the only way poor Cicero can speak with our matron."

"Cicero, you need to stay and care for the night mother, I doubt Aventis would want to clean all of her hard to reach places. Besides, you are the only one aloud to keep our mother safe. The rest of the brotherhood is 'unqualified.'"

Cicero let out a low rumble of submission, "Listener is right, but at least take Shadowmere with you. The rest of the brotherhood refuses to ride him. It's the only way Cicero can be sure that listener is well protected." He almost forced the rains into her hands. He then turned and darted off almost in a skip back to the sanctuary. Laughing all the way back and muttering to himself.

"What in the name of Talos was all that about?" Troy glared at her with amusement and confusion.

"That is Cicero, the night mother's keeper. He is . . . devoted." She almost refused to go deeper into detail.

"Well I can see that, but why is he so . . ."

"When he was ordered to take the night mother to Skyrim, he killed a jester who continued to laugh as he took his life. When he felt the everlasting silence of the night mother's company, he prayed to Sithis that he could hear something. Sithis gave him the laughter of the jester and it made him slightly more sane and he thanked Sithis for his friend. When the laughter continued for days the old Cicero was gone. I read his journal 'dead is Cicero the man, born is Cicero the fool.'" After her explanation was given, the other two looked at her with disbelief. Selther's eyes fell upon the horse and he was about to ask a question when Alena interrupted him, "No Shadowmere is not from Oblivion, he is from the Void. I have yet to see him take any real damage and I wonder if he can actually die if he isn't dead already." Selther then looked away and started down the path again.

They reached the swamp with no trouble but realized that the path was gone, they would have to move through the waters and prey there will be a lack of slaughterfish. They all stepped into the murky waters when Selther noticed a bush with bright blue flowers. He moved onto land and picked a few then through them into his satchel. "Deathbells, very common in this area. Very useful when making a poison." He turned towards Alena who let out a soft chuckle.

"Shhhh!" Troy held up his index finger to his mask, brow at a frown and his eyes at a squint, he peered into the distance. He could hear soft, rapid padding, then long shadowed legs crept over a mossy hill. Troy knew that it had to be some kind of creature that Namira would smile upon. They had somehow stumbled upon an entire nest of frostbite spiders, eight small ones, and one giant frostbite spider, they all crawled out of a web infested cave, hunting for prey. Troy and Alena drew their weapons and Selther raised his hands. He put up a ward that was large enough to cover all three of them, but the other two ignored it and rushed into battle.

The spiders began to try and immobilize the group by shooting small streamlines of venom. The ward seemed to not only stop them but also engulfed the shots. Selther began to circle them and lead them into a small grotto, shooting balls of fire at the largest one. Troy and Alena began to flank and kill the smaller ones. Alena was suddenly thrown off balance but then she recovered and plunged her dagger far into the head of one of the smaller spiders. Shadowmere bashed the eyes of a spider that was going to cling to her back. The larger one stood ten feet tall and stepped toward Selther, when it dipped into the grotto Selther yelled. "Get back, now!" Selther called out to them, they stepped away from the pool of sliming water when the mage dropped his ward and shot a bolt of lightning at the giant spider. The pool became electrified and shocked the remaining spiders, legs began to twitch and shake uncontrollably, and then all the arachnids fell limp and collapsed.

Selther then examined Troy for any bites, he was unharmed. When he went to Alena he noticed two small holes punctured her forearm. One was just above her wrist and the other below her elbow. "Well that feels numb." Alena joked as Selther ran his hand through his bag and took out a small vile with a bright red liquid.

"Here, drink this." But Alena put her hand between herself and the vial.

"I got it." Hevnoraak began to glow a dull red, the holes in her arm started pouring out venom. Selther sighed as the last of it ran down her arm and dripped from her fingers. The bretton put the vile back into his satchel and began to chuckle. "What's so funny?"

Selther looked up at her, "I almost forgot what that mask of yours did. I remember why you were the one to get that one."

Troy walked over to them, "Come on, the faster we find Elisa the better. It's getting dark out and there's a good chance she's already awake." The three of them looked up at the sky as the last sign of the sun vanished on the western horizon.


	7. Chapter 7

Again I apologize for the time it took to write this chapter, my schedule has been hectic and I hope that the fact that I jump in and out of the story will affect the way it is written too much. Thank you for your reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the others.

"I knew something bad was going to happen when you decided to pick those deathbells. Something bad is always related to their encounters." Alena began to straighten up and continue through the swamp, leaving the dead frostbite spiders behind.

Selther looked offended by her comment. "That myth has never been proven, bad luck such as picking deathbells or breaking a mirror are simply ways to get yourself in trouble. The owner of the mirror will confront you because mirrors are expensive and make a loud noise when broken and deathbells grow in hazardous locations, such as a swamp, where dangerous wildlife is found. The fact that something bad happens to you is only because you are simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. You only notice it more often because you believe in such things."

"Well I'm sorry that I'm a woman of superstition and not one of science and knowledge like you are. I am inclined to my beliefs just as you are inclined to yours."

"I know that, I'm simply telling you why your beliefs are nothing but a series of rumors that have been passed down by those that have found themselves in situations directly related to these omens." The two of them argued back and forth until Troy became annoyed and quieted them. They're arguments happened often when they were still a group and it seems that hasn't changed over the years.

When they finally reached the town of Morthal, they attempted to ask around for any sightings of Elisa. Their first brought them nowhere and the second was just insulting.

"Excuse me, do you know where we can find someone named Elisa? She's a Breton, short black hair?" Selther asked the nearest civilian who was sitting on his porch cleaning an iron sword.

"Yeah, she's back the way you came, said something about getting too annoyed by outsiders asking stupid questions." The arch mage took a great amount of offence to this gesture, but Troy was there to keep him from incinerating the poor bastard. No luck there, they figured the Yarl would provide more light on the subject, but when they got to his longhouse no one was inside. It's like the whole town was avoiding them. They finally decided to go into the inn and ask the bartender, they usually know what's going on around the hold. When they entered, the tavern was quiet and empty save for one drunk laying down on a bench and the bartender trying to roll him off and out of his pub.

Troy decided to help and grabbed the passed out drunk by the legs and drag him out the door. Well . . . by drag I mean throw and by out I mean through. The rotten wood gave way so easily troy flinched at its destruction. He quickly took out a large bag of coins and tossed it to the bartender, apologizing for the damage and paying for the repairs. "Why are you people in my bar anyway? All the mead gets warm from the humidity of the swamp and the beds are full of bugs." The bartender looked at them with unease as he picked up the sack of coins at his feet.

Alena spoke first, "We're looking for someone. We were hoping you could give us a lead." Troy, still looking at the damage he caused, saw the drunk get up and hold his head in pain. When he tried to walk off the porch of the inn he tripped on the step and fell face first into the mud then passed out again. When he looked back at the conversation the bartender responded.

"Let me guess, you're here for the vampire you dropped off a few years ago. The only way I'll tell you where she went is if you promise that you're going to get her out of this swamp, this hold. Hell, get her out of Skyrim for all I care, I just don't want her feeding on my customers anymore." She had been in the town recently, that much was clear.

"Alright, we promise. Now tell us where she is." Selther cut in, he sounded like he was desperate to see her but he was trying to hide it. It was no secret that he worried about her. Much like a father would about his daughter.

The bartender looked at him with confusion but quickly dismissed the thought. "She went to the cave that had the last vampire in it. I think that's where she's been staying considering she never rented a room for the time she was in here."

"When was the last time she was in here?" Troy spoke up, turning away from the pitiful drunk laying down in the swamp.

"She was here about a month ago. The guards know not to mess with her since she's technically the thane of Morthal." He sounded almost disgusted at how much she could get away with.

"Thanks." Alena said as Troy tried to get the door on its hinges again and when he saw they were ready to leave he sighed and just tore the whole thing off the wall instead of taking the time to try and open it again.

When they stepped around the drunk on the ground they saw a man running to them, he was holding a bag full of parchments and looked like he was running a long way. Drenched in sweat and panting he handed a letter to Alena. She was about to ask the courier who sent him but he had his hands on his knees and a fearful look in his eyes as he looked at the ground.

She opened the letter to see it was written franticly and barely legible.

"_Dear Listener,_

_Poor Cicero is sending you this letter because he is worried about the contracts rapidly coming in. The brotherhood is hearing whispers of people trying to summon us, Cicero cannot know where they are or how many there are, but if the listener came back we'd be back in busine_s_s. The brotherhood was able to track one down to Morthal. If the listener would speak with this contact, he is in a shack to the south of the town. Listener would be kind to speak with the client and kinder still to come back home. I hope this letter finds you. Cicero promised that if the courier didn't find you, Cicero would find the courier._

_Your faithful keeper_

_Sweet Cicero_

After she stared at the letter trying to decipher the messy handwriting she noticed the small bloodstain at the bottom of the letter and Alena saw that the courier's arm was bleeding. This explains why the messenger sprinted the whole way, he was afraid for his life. She could imagine the insane jester running after him with his ebony dagger. Alena then promised herself to see the client after they found Elisa. She was a member of the order first and an assassin second.

When they finally got to the cave they noticed it was the same cave that the frostbite spiders crawled out of. Looks like that rude man cleaning his sword was at least half right. When they entered they immediately felt a cold, damp presence. The walls of the first chamber were lined with spider webs and dotted with large white eggs. Stepping down the walkway, Troy stepped into a wall of webs then began to flail his arms like a mad man. The other two were to far behind to notice the webs so all they saw was him randomly going insane.

"Troy, you haven't been anywhere near Sheogorath, have you?" Selther began as Troy wiped the webs off his arm.

Troy let out strong, rapid exhales as he attempted to get the webs off of his mouth, "No, I just ran into a web. Help me get this stuff off."

Alena shot into the conversation, "I think watching you squirm would be much more entertaining." At this comment, Selther began to laugh at the sight of his leader struggling with the sticky silk and was joined by Alena. Finally clearing his hands so that he could get it off of his face, Troy squinted at them in annoyance. The three of them resumed to walk through the cave that held one of their members. "So Troy, how's the other Nord doing? Keeping well with all her guard dogs?"

"I wouldn't throw comments like that around so much, we have been trusted with a great secret, and I hope you can respect that.

"It's not that big of secret, the guards have herd howling from the underforge and they all smell like a wet dog. Not to mention the attack of the silver hand on their mead hall. Why else would werewolf hunters . . ." Her voice died down when they finally made there way into a large stone room with a long dining table in the center. Red banners hung on the walls behind a throne at the head of the table. But it wasn't the decorations that caught her amazement, it was the ceiling. Covered with sleeping bats, suddenly all their eyes opened.

From above, they herd an echoed voice speak, "Is that Selther's blood I smell?" Suddenly all the bats took off and began to form a small tornado, then they began to cling to each other, forming a final mass that sat on the throne, its elbow bent at the armrest and the forearm reached for its head. Its fingers held its chin as the bats continued to form. The body slouched in its throne and when the last of the bats joined the rest it was clear who was sitting before them. With a pale face and glowing eyes, hair that was black went down just above her shoulders. Wearing bright red vampire armor, sat Elisa. "Never thought I'd see you again."


End file.
